Page 49 of Stuck with the Grumpy Silver Fox

Adam points to his crocks, letting me know he’s already ready. I smirk as I gather my keys.

The car ride to my folks from Ms. Vitale’s mansion is about ten minutes away. As we pull up to my parent’s colonial-style home, Nadia wraps up her story about collecting seashells when she was six. Adam is fascinated with comparing and contrasting everyone’s childhood experiences to his own. Nadia says he has a natural knack for journalism. She finds his curiosity enormous as it is essential. I like the idea of Adam learning more and more. I always told him he was meant to be bigger and better than me with everything he did. I know I haven’t given him much variety when it comes to travel, but he’s only six, and I know the future has endless possibilities.

“So, just a regular good old-fashioned BBQ, huh?” Nadia is checking to see if I plan on spilling the beans.

“Yes, relax.” I squeeze her closed fist before we exit my truck.

Mom and Dad are both on the front porch. They stand and walk down the stairs as if about to meet a star. Well, Nadia is a star in my eyes. More so the sea and the sun, actually. But, she is the granddaughter of one, and I would rather have Nadia tell it than I. I’m sure it’ll come up when time allows.

Nadia is dressed in a long, flowy, tangerine-colored summer dress. She can pull it off with her honey tan and her greenish eyes. She looks radiant. Her hand is clammy as she squeezes mine.

Adam dashes before us and hops into my father’s arms. He spins him around and ruffles his head, commenting on how it needs a cut. Great.

Mom stares at Nadia in deep fascination. She skims from her feet to her head. It’s almost as if she’s mentally checking off the criteria that I’m secure Nadia is killing regarding physicality.

Mom’s not a superficial person, but I know she loves to be surrounded by “Venusian” things, whatever that means. It’s something she’s said to me several times regarding art, hairstyles, and the overall quality or aesthetic of something.

“Nadia, I’m Deborah. Very pleased to meet you.” Mom cups Nadia’s hands before pulling her into a hug.

Dad greets her after, “There you are! So glad to meet you!”

Their backyard is plush with typical early June flowers like the neverending row of all-colored peonies that alarm Nadia.

“One thing I have noticed is that Midwesterners certainly respect their gardens. Deborah, do you think it’s because you all have proper four seasons, so you don’t take them for granted?” Nadia is exceptionally good at communicating.

I would be so nervous, but here she was, walking deep into my mother’s garden with many things to say. I wonder if Mom thinks Nadia is closer to my age than she looks. If I’m lucky, Mom may think Nadia has great genes or those California vitamins are superb. I snicker as Dad sets a cold beer in front of me.

We take space on the teal-colored picnic table we gather around for outdoor dinners. The hot dogs, burgers, and grilled lemon chicken are kept under the nets before us. Baked beans, buttered corn on the cob, and sliced melon are covered but sit on the drink table beside the grill.

“You look happy, son. She’s definitely gorgeous. Wow! She’s the one who popped up at your store during the storm?” Dad laughs.

“Pipe down, Dad.”

“Hey, I think it’s time you invest in some love for yourself. You don’t need a full-fledged family, but you’re a man with needs, so… it’ll loosen you up. Your mother and I would like to see you less tense.”

“Didn’t know I came across so tense.” Jokingly, I cut my eye at him.

“We’ll, not lately.”

I had an idea, but the look on my Dad’s face made me feel like I was really some kind of jerky grump. It’s more than just the sex that’s loosening me up. Nadia’s whole entity, her presence, her glow, that throbbing third eye of hers, is like medicine to me. I just want confirmation we want to work on a happily-ever-after with each other.

As we sit to eat, I also turn down another beer. I don’t want any suspicion about Nadia’s choice to drink the same thing Adam is having. Sure, Nadia could be sober, but I would rather pretend we had a rough night last night just to avoid unnecessary questions.

“Is it your grandmother that’s from here or your grandfather?” Mom asks, setting her burger down.

“My grandmother.”

“She’s rich and famous!” Adam belts out.

Oh, damn it!Of course. I don’t know why I hadn’t considered Adam spilling the beans. There’s clearly enough on my mind as it is.

“Really?” Dad talks into his napkin.

“She is! Right, Nadia?” Adam looks at Nadia.

Nadia’s face is turning a little red. She gives my parents a soft smile and sets her fork down.

She nods and says, “Old Hollywood.”

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